


Secret Santa #3: John/Vriska

by KittysMuse



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittysMuse/pseuds/KittysMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third Secret Santa gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Santa #3: John/Vriska

The dead never forget.

She may act like the death of the one who she had gotten to know, had had the chance to remeet and change some of the way in which she acted for the better, is not affecting her that much. Why should it, when the alpha version of the same individual is standing in front of her? He grew strong. He helped save people when all she did was kill them. Hell, he probably became even stronger and better than her! She is totally happy about that, that she was a huge reason for him being that way, and yet...

Yet she cannot forget the John who had not known her.

She had never seen snow, or at least not through any means but a computer screen. It was cold and dry, but very slowly melted when it touched her bare skin. She could feel the sensation of the flakes that escaped into the inside of her boots turning into a cold film of water, watch as her boots slightly dimmed in color as they soaked through and her orange shirt cling coldly to her arms and stomach. She had never witnessed anything like it.

He hadn't remembered her. She felt confused, frustrated even at the nerve of him forgetting someone so important to his success! Hurt also tried to shine through, but her pride swallowed it down, dry and painful as it was. She was almost certain he still was not convinced, but he didn't ask and she didn't tell. 

Even a John who did not know her still felt the need to be nice to an alien girl standing alone in the snow. She swapped out of her now soaked god tiered clothing into what she had grown used to on Alternia, and he lent her his jacket. It surprisingly resembelled her own, but smelled more like sweets and happiness than blood and pain. She felt herself relax, if just a little.

He was a good guide, taking things in stride and keeping her from thinking about her death too much. He explained his death, what the Denizen Typheus had offered him, and how he hadn't become aware of his death until she had come along, standing outside his window. They sat next to each other, his very warm side pressed against hers, and watched the first sunrise she had ever dared to see. 

His lips were even warmer.

They dated for a long time, or at least that's what it seemed to be to her. Time passed strangely in the dream bubbles, but she always made sure to find him as quickly as possible if a bubble fracturing split them apart. Her luck appeared to be great despite those occasional separations, as she was able to spend many hours cuddling and watching movies with him, hearing his giggly laughter, his way of saying words that avoided his gangly teeth, his infectiously happy smile. 

They had eventually broken up at some point during that time, but they still spent time together whenever one of them passed through the bubble of the other. He still broke up the monotony and occasional pain of the afterlife for her, and the joy she showed whenever he visited was genuine. She still felt strongly for him, and whenever he wasn't paying attention she'd take the chance to breathe in deeply and relax at the smell of his prescence. 

She only knew it was him who died by his jacket. Several other ghosts were in the area of the mass double death, and he was the only John who still wore that green suit. 

She later buried the ashes she hoped were his on the lawn of a memory of a house, beneath the tree that sat next to a lonely pogo ride.

This one's smile is just as wide, but his being screams of frustration and lost innocence. He wields a weapon designed for death, and he doesn't smell like lovingly made sweets anymore. She greatly admires him for what he's accomplished, but she doesn't know him that well anymore. Perhaps with time she will be able to adjust to this changed John and care for him like the one she used to know.

But she can never forget him.


End file.
